Unplanned Visits
by dovekiie
Summary: During a long night's work, Malik finds himself with one unexpected guest... Or to be more precise, only one that he is aware of. Oneshot, unless I feel like adding more down the line.


"You should forgive him."

The quill on the parchment stopped mid-stroke. The hand paused for a moment, then put the quill down, closing his eyes.

"So you have returned to me yet again."

"Yes."

"I see."

Malik opened his eyes slowly, his empty bureau lay before him. Then he slowly turned his head to the right. There he was.

"You should forgive him."

"I heard you the first time. You know I cannot."

He turned away from the figure and moved away from the incomplete map on his desk. He had been working too long. He stretched slightly, taking large steps away from his desk.

"Why not?"

"Are you so foolish as to ask me that again!" His voice was strained. He stood facing the wall, glaring at it with the intensity he saved in his heart for that man.

"I am not the one here who is acting a fool."

"I am no fool. Granting forgiveness would be foolish and naive!"

"It would not be so. It is the right thing to do." 

The one armed man snorted. "The right thing to do. Do you know what would have been the right thing to do? Not charging into their midst, proclaiming his arrival!" His fist clenched. "I refuse to forgive his folly! His arrogance robbed us of so much, for which he has shown not the least bit of remorse!" Malik felt a fire burning deep in his stomach, the anger boiling up his spine and pricking the back of his neck. He tried to keep himself from looking upon the figure's face.

"I think he has more remorse than he lets show."

Malik's expression twisted into a shocked rage, head whipping towards the voice.

Blue eyes watched him.

Malik's insides twisted, he stared into the face of his brother.

"How would you possibly know that. There is no way for you to know that. Just like there is no way for you to be here right now."

The face stared back, watching the older man blankly. "Yet here I am, brother. You should forgive him."

"Stop saying that! I will not forgive him! What reason is there to do so!"

At this the expression of the dead man changed to a look of affectionate pity. "I see. You have yet to realize.."

"Realize what! There is nothing to realize! Reality is perfectly clear to me!" Malik's hand grasped at where his left arm once was. The nothingness there made his insides churn. He gripped the base of the remaining stump; his fingers closed around fabric of the pinned sleeve tightly. "The reality is this!" he shouted. "His thoughtless actions not only robbed me of my arm, but you of your life! He has not once apologized for this!" Malik glared at the figure in front of him.

The robes were clean of blood, flesh unwounded. Kadar looked as healthy as he always was.

"He is more remorseful than you know."

"You cannot know that! That man regrets nothing!"

"Is he not serving his penance?"

"He is doing the punishment which he has been ordered, nothing more."

"Does he not treat you with respect? He still calls you Brother, does he not? He wishes you safety and peace."

"Mere common courtesy!"

"Your stubbornness is unchanged."

Malik did not reply. His chest was pained, his throat tight. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them slowly. It had failed, his brother stood beside him, clear as day. Quietly, he spoke. "Why have you come?" He reached his hand to touch the other man.

The younger brother's image did not waver or flicker, only watched him as the hand touched nothing.

"You know why I have come. The same reason I have come before."

Frustration crept once more into Malik's voice. He recoiled his hand. "Why are you so insistent I forgive him? Have you forgotten what he has done to you?"

The voice remained calm, soft. "You know I have not."

"Then how can you ask that of me? Tell me!"

"Can you truly not see it for yourself? Brother, please.."

"There is nothing to see." Malik turned away, walking to the other side of the room. "If that is all you have come here to say to me.." He turned back around to face him.

The room was empty. All was quiet.

Malik stood there for a time, eyes closed, trying to regain calm back into his mind. The visions of his brother were seldom, yet they always effected him the same. He willed his stomach to settle, the vice on his chest and tightness of his throat to lessen. He forced reason back into himself. It was fatigue, nothing more. Kadar was dead.

Malik moved tiredly to his pillows; he sat down and closed his eyes.

"The dead do not speak."

The unseen observer moved from the doorway silently, pulling his hood farther over his head as he disappeared into the night.


End file.
